Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
When Jennessey and Crunch started working on their shit, she was around more often. And I’ll be damn if I can deny this pull between us. First time at a barbecue with the club I had this urge to keep an eye on her, shelter her, protect her.
The memories invade. Back then, her frame was still too thin, her skin pale like the sun hadn’t touched her in months. But her eyes—God, her eyes—were clear for the first time I could ever remember and we go way back because her sister and my brother have that once in a lifetime love. Jameson came back from rehab changed and it was written in her eyes. No more glaze, no bloodshot haze, just green circles staring out at the world like she wasn’t scared anymore.
I tried to play it cool. Leaned against the porch rail, beer in hand, pretending not to watch her every move.
But I did watch.
I couldn’t stop myself.
She laughed with Jenni, hugged my mom, and embraced everyone she came in contact with like she knew she was safe here. Then she drifted over to me.
“Hey, Tommy,” she whispered. Her voice was soft, almost uncertain.
“Hey, Jami.” I swallowed hard, because hearing her say my name like that messes me up even now.
We made small talk—about the rehab center, about the weather, about stupid shit like how the fireflies came out earlier that year. But underneath every word was this tension, like both of us were standing too close to a cliff.
And then it happened.
She stepped closer, close enough that I could smell her shampoo, fresh and clean, not the cloud of whiskey she used to carry. Her fingers brushed my arm, barely there, but it was enough to make me shiver.
Before I could stop myself, I looked at her lips.
And she noticed.
The next second, she kissed me. Rolled right up on her tip-toes and pressed her mouth to mine.
It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t neat. But it was real. Her lips were soft, trembling against mine, and I swear I could taste everything she’d been through—pain, loss, regret, but also hope. Sweet and bitter, like she was trying to remind herself she was still alive. Immediately, I dropped my free hand to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Her mouth opened and I invaded. I drank her in like she was the only water to be found in the desert. I felt her hands slide up and grip my cut pulling at me like she had to hold on or drown in our kiss.
When she pulled back, she didn’t smile. She didn’t laugh. She just looked me dead in the eyes, and whispered, “I don’t ever want to forget the taste of you.”
Then she walked away, back into the crowd, leaving me stunned.
I stood there, beer warm in my hand that ached to be the one that touched her, heart pounding so hard I thought it might crack my ribs.
And I’ve been haunted by that kiss ever since.
Mind back to this moment in the clubhouse, I take another pull from my beer, but it doesn’t wash the memory away. Nothing ever has. It’s been weeks and I can’t shake the need to taste her once again.
That kiss branded me.
My dad calls out for me to take off with Crunch. We own a campground not far from the clubhouse and there is a problem needing attention. Since my brother is the business brain for our family with real estate investments, he knows all of the ins and outs at the campground.
We finish up with the environmental people who were testing soil samples to ensure there were no sewage leaks on the property when everything changes.
The text hits my phone and my world shifts. In an instant I know what I have to do and it isn’t just for Jami. My brother is going to lose his ever-loving-mind to know where Jenni is headed.
His eyes lock to mine, immediately catching the worry and the fury radiating off me. “Jami and Jenni are going to see their dad,” I share with Crunch.
He knows what that means.
Ezra Rivera isn’t just an asshole. He’s a mean drunk with a history of beating his wife bloody and picking fights with anyone who looks at him sideways. He’s poison, through and through.
Crunch meets my eyes. “Fuck.”
Immediately we get on our bikes. We ride. I follow Crunch and can’t help but get curious as to why we stop before heading on to Ezra’s. We pull into the clubhouse. Crunch barrels inside, looking for Red.
“Jenni and Jami might be in trouble,” he blurts out as soon as he gets within range of our brother.
Red frowns. “Might?”
“They’re goin’ to see their dad,” Crunch repeats.
Red doesn’t hesitate. “Fuck, there’s no might to that. They are in trouble.” The whole town knows how bad their dad is and our big brother understands what the women are walking into.